


student from hell

by falloutgirl



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: 'terrible' singer baekhyun, M/M, also kim jongbros for LIFE!, cant say i blame him, entirely self indulgent, jongdae spends 10k of these words wanting to beat up baekhyun, just...ENTIRELY..., light teacher/student, minseok is my favorite in this, vocal teacher jongdae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 16:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20312761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutgirl/pseuds/falloutgirl
Summary: Jongdae feels himself outwardly cringe at the god awful sound coming from clear across the room. He turns towards it, and is not surprised to see Baekhyun screeching at the top of his lungs. He feels the vein in his forehead pulse as the rest of the class falls completely silent.“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, straight up, tone final.The shrieking stops but Jongdae’s ears still ring.~~Jongdae is a vocal teacher and Baekhyun is his worst student.





	student from hell

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my friends Viv and Jenna for coming up with this prompt! never gonna forget the fact that we spent a good hour talking about fanfic cliches and fanfic in general in the middle of the SM communication center dining area <3 that's what true friendships are all about <3 much love to you girls, and i still cannot believe I actually ended up writing this. LOL
> 
> my first foray into the baekchen kingdom, inspired by friends but also because i was gripped by the crystal clear cut image of jongdae in front of my eyes for 6 solid minutes, not even 4 feet away, while at the concert in seoul. i'm haunted by his orange eye shadow and the glitter on his cheeks... that shit is breathtaking, bro. jongdae i love you <3 please top me <3
> 
> any mistakes are my own, fic was very lightly beta'd by some kind friends. in any case, enjoy!!!

Jongdae dramatically slams the door to the apartment closed, before falling face first on the couch. He muffles a scream into the ugly sequined bear pillow right next to him. 

“Hey,” Jongin says, “don’t put your drool all over my pillow!” 

Jongdae stops screaming long enough to look up and make eye contact with his younger brother. He had a terrible day at work because of his student from  _ hell  _ and Jongdae would rather like to enjoy the simple feeling of screaming into a pillow in anguish for a little while. He does it one more time, ignoring Jongin and his annoying complaints, before Jongin tugs on his pant leg and Jongdae whips his head around. Jongin has a look on his face like he’s trying to contain his laughter. Jongdae narrows his eyes. 

“Leave me alone,” Jongdae spits out before licking the bear pillow directly. 

“No!” Jongin screams, racing to snatch the pillow out of Jongdae's hands, but Jongdae moves too quickly for him, and licks the pillow again, making sure to add extra drool all over it. 

Jongin leaps over the back of the couch and sits on top of Jongdae's butt, pinning him down. He pulls Jongdae's ear and says, “Chanyeol’s bare dick has been on that pillow!” Instantly, Jongdae drops the pillow onto the floor like he’s been burned. He tries to get up off the couch but Jongin keeps him weighed down.

“I cannot stand you!” He yells as his annoying brother laughs. Jongin picks up the pillow while Jongdae wipes his tongue with the inside of his shirt. He does  _ not  _ what to know what his baby brother and said baby brother’s dumbass boyfriend get up to in this shared—emphasis on  _ shared _ —apartment, thank you very much. Jongin gets off his back and sits down, clutching the ugly bear pillow to his chest. Jongdae follows suit. “What’s got you all riled up again?” 

“The usual,” Jongdae mutters, grinding his teeth. He thinks back to today’s class and a headache the size of one Byun Baekhyun takes full force all over again.

“Oh, of course,” Jongin says, “the student from hell. Is he still cute, though?” 

“I’m ignoring that last part for my own sanity,” Jongdae mutters, before sighing. He settles into a soft silence.

“The student from hell indeed,” he tacks on in agreement, and then instantly feels bad about it. “It’s not that he’s bad at singing,” Jongdae starts, because Jongdae is a vocal teacher and he trained for years to be a vocal coach, because he went through the years of being unsure of himself, of thinking he was terrible when he wasn’t, because he would  _ never  _ in a million years insult one of his students, would never in a million years say that someone can’t sing, it’s just that—

“He  _ is  _ bad,” Jongin finishes, a grimace on his face, “I’ve heard the class recordings… he cannot hold a note to save his life.” 

“I am a terrible teacher,” Jongdae groans, and picks up another pillow to scream into. Jongin looks at him forlornly and comes over to pat his shoulder, before pouting at him. 

Jongdae heaves a small sigh, he’s been a vocal teacher for years—this is his craft, this is his passion. And sure enough he’s had his bout of terrible, atrocious, “tone deaf” students, but Jongdae has always ascribed to the idea that no one is truly tone deaf, that with enough traditional training and practice, one can become decent enough to hold a tune. Jongdae’s under no illusion here of course, he knows he’s not training the next set of Paul Kim’s or IU’s or Chen’s, but he’s proud of seeing his students progress in their determination to become a singer, whether to impress a date, their friends at the noraebangs, or as a surprise present for their family. It’s moments like those that truly make Jongdae remember his passion and his love for this job. 

Today’s class however, reminds him every once in a while just how far his patience can go. They had been practicing Paul Kim’s ‘Every Day, Every Moment’ and everyone more or less had been able to sing a good enough rendition of the chorus, much to Jongdae’s encouraging smiles. 

Baekhyun, however, had somehow completely managed to spend the entire class period not learning a single fucking thing, and when it came time for the practical lesson, had stayed  _ flat  _ nearly the entire time. At some point during the class, Jongdae had an out of body experience, wondering if Baekhyun really just was  _ this  _ bad at singing, or if he had been playing a practical joke on Jongdae this entire time, for the last six weeks this class has been running. Jongdae can feel the stress vein in his forehead pulsating, thinking about the number of times he had asked Baekhyun to mimic a simple  _ C4,  _ only for him to mess it up every single fucking time. 

It was only ten minutes before class ended when somehow, out of nowhere, Baekhyun seemed to nail the mimicking, flawlessly giving Jongdae a perfect resounding middle  _ C. _ Jongdae didn’t even have time to properly process that, before Baekhyun was back to horribly cracking his vocals on every other phrase of the song. 

He walked out of class with a gleam in his eye and a slight smirk on his mouth, and Jongdae went the rest of the way home fuming.

“It’s okay, hyung!” Jongin says, taking Jongdae out of his reverie. Jongdae pats his little brother on the knee, and feels the anguish of the day leave him. Jongin’s infectious happiness is enough to lift him out of the worst class related funk always. 

“Can we eat fried chicken for dinner?” 

“We always eat fried chicken,” Jongdae mutters, But gets up and picks up the take out menu anyway. Jongin cheers in the background. 

***

It’s another day of classes and training his students. Jongdae’s classes are held and hosted by the community college fine arts department, though it’s publicly open for anyone to enroll. Jongdae’s students range from people in their young teens to some as old as their late forties. He has always believed that it is never too late to find passion in singing. He is well into teaching the parts for the current song they’re working on, when the classroom door opens and in walks the bane of his existence, the unlight of his life, the student that makes Jongdae question why the fuck he ever wanted to become a teacher in the first place—

_ Byun Baekhyun,  _ in all his unglory.

Jongdae bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from giving him a sour expression. 

“So nice of you to join us Mr. Byun,” Jongdae says, “do remember to come to class on time.” 

“Sorry, teach!” Baekhyun says, all chipper as always, smacking his lips around a big wad of gum he’s chewing, before taking his seat—which is of course dead in the front of the class and directly in Jongdae’s line of sight. These classes only run two times a week for 2 hours a class, with each class being a different set of students. Baekhyun is in his Tuesday evening class. Tuesday is Jongdae’s least favorite day of the week. 

After a brief calibration period to reorient himself, Jongdae gets back into the groove of teaching his students. They usually spend the first hour on theory and the second on practical assessment. Jongdae has always felt it was easier for his students to understand the different pitches and aspects of singing if they learned  _ how  _ the vocal chords work in the first place. The last thing he ever wants to do is have his students sing with bad technique. 

“Okay class,” Jongdae says, after wrapping up the theory part, “let’s move into the singing aspect. Today’s song we are covering is ‘Cherry Blossom Love Song’ by Chen. Fairly easy for everyone in here, I think!” Jongdae’s enthusiasm comes out in times like these, when he is so viciously reminded of how passionate he is about his craft. He runs through the song several times on his own, with the minus one recording playing in the background, to give his students time to hear the way the song is  _ supposed _ to sound. Jongdae isn’t one to toot his own horn but… he knows his voice is good—incredible, even. And the wondrous look on his students' faces makes all of this worth it. 

“Fairly easy, stuff right?” He says, while the students cheer for him. 

“That was amazing,” Sehun says, from the front row, and Jongdae feels the blood rush to his face at the compliment. Sehun is one of his more quiet students, but he’s diligent and he works on his singing everyday, comes to class on time and puts his best foot forward. Jongdae offers him a warm smile and a soft thanks. He’s not very good at receiving them from people around him, but he still remembers to thank those that do tell him. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and notices Baekhyun staring at him and Sehun with a funny expression, nose scrunched up in distaste and eyes burning. 

Jongdae goes back to paying attention to Sehun, to help him start with the lesson, and notices him wearing a casual smirk on his face as he shoots a look back over at Baekhyun. Jongdae rolls his eyes, uninterested in whatever seems to be transpiring between his best student and his  _ worst _ . He just hopes to god Baekhyun doesn’t corrupt Sehun’s work ethic. 

“Are you ready, Sehun?” Jongdae asks, and Sehun smiles shyly. 

From there, the rest of the class runs smoothly, Jongdae going to each of his students to help them with their notes, their technique, and ultimately their voice. He straightens out Joohyun’s posture, tells Jaehyun to open his jaw, and helps Doyoung to scale up to his high note in a way that won’t damage his vocal chords in ten years. Jongdae goes through the motions, dotes on each one of his precious students, and feels his heart warm. He offers a big smile and a pat on the back at every turn, encouraging them to do their best. 

And then—

Jongdae feels himself outwardly cringe at the god awful fucking sound coming from clear across the room. He turns towards it, and is not surprised to see Baekhyun screeching at the top of his fucking lungs. 

And no, this isn’t the trying-to-sing-but-failing type of screeching, no. This is the about-to-recreate-the-fucking- _ Exorcist  _ type of screeching, ears bleeding against the sharpnest of notes Jongdae didn’t think, quite frankly, anyone but a drunk Mariah Carey could hit. He feels the vein in his forehead pulse as the rest of the class falls completely silent.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, straight up, tone final.

The shrieking stops but Jongdae’s ears still ring.

“Yes, teach?” Baekhyun says, turning towards him, still smacking his gum between his teeth. 

Jongdae sighs.  _ I’m going to strangle him,  _ he thinks to himself, resigned and forlorn, as Baekhyun gives him a winning smile. Jongdae makes his way over to Baekhyun and the cacophony of the class picks up again with ease. Jongdae thinks to himself that Baekhyun looks a little miffed, if the set of his pouty lips is anything to go by.  _ No,  _ Jongdae thinks to himself, stopping his thought process near immediately. He is absolutely not going to go down that road, he is not going to traverse that path. Because yes, while Baekhyun is a raging dickhead from the prehistoric era of assholes who have come to ruin Jongdae’s life, Baekhyun is also soft around the cheeks, pink in the face, and has the cutest, most heinous fucking mole right where the sunlight casts him in a ethereal glow. No, Jongdae isn’t staring, in fact, he isn’t looking at all. 

At all. At all. 

“Teach?” Baekhyun says, and pulls Jongdae out of his rumination. 

“Yes, Baekhyun?” Jongdae offers him a small smile, and gets a scrunchy face one in return.  _ Be still my fucking beating heart _ , Jongdae thinks, and wants to brain himself against the business end of an ice pick all the same. 

“I need some help with the bridge here,” Baekhyun asks, puttering over the music sheet in front of him.

“You need  _ more _ than help,” Jongdae mutters to himself.

“What was that?” Baekhyun gives him a shy smile.

“Nothing,” Jongdae replies, all teeth, before launching into a slower, step by step, A to B to fucking C version of the lesson. He has Baekhyun run scales up and down, more vocalization exercises than anyone probably requires, but Jongdae being by his side has more or less stopped the incessant shrieking noise coming from this side of the classroom. If Baekhyun can just keep doing this for the next half an hour, Jongdae will accept this as a successful class day. Baekhyun seems to more or less be able to hit the notes on the scale today, and it fills Jongdae with a sense of pride. Baekhyun’s finally learning. Baekhyun’s finally  _ learning _ . And as Baekhyun continues to run up and down the vocal scale like a Korean version of Julie Andrews, Jongdae weighs the pros and cons of hanging a banner in his class that reads  _ If Baekhyun can succeed then so can you!  _

Soon enough, there’s only about ten minutes left of class, and Jongdae is hit with the realization that he spent much more time with Baekhyun than he was supposed to. He looks towards his other students who all seem to be doing fine, more or less practicing the song at their own pace. Jongdae relaxes his tense shoulders and feels at ease. He bids Baekhyun a goodbye before making his way to the front of the class, to give his parting remarks.

“Overall,” Jongdae starts, “today’s class went exceptionally well. I’m actually extremely proud of each and everyone of you.” He meets the faces of all his students and offers them a big, warm smile. “Is there anyone who would like to volunteer to sing the chorus of today’s song as our farewell?” No one’s hand immediately goes up, which is what Jongdae expects more or less. He knows it’s only been a few weeks, so he doesn’t expect any of his students to be ready to sing on the spot like such. However, this time, a hand tentatively rises in the air, and Jongdae looks at the fingers and down to the face until he is met, with none other than Baekhyun himself.

“Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks, “you had a question?”

“No, teach,” he says, and smacks his lips, gum having been swallowed during the second time Jongdae had him run through the scale. “I wanna sing.”

_ I wanna sing _ , repeats in Jongdae’s mind. He offers a smile, which is sure looks constipated on his face, but nevertheless points to the front of the classroom. Baekhyun did well today, it can’t be too bad for him to sing in front of everyone, right? And besides, the rest of his classmates already know how absolutely god awful he sounds, if the looks on their faces are anything to go by, so Jongdae shrugs. The life of being a teacher isn’t always a glamorous one—he half expects Baekhyun to start screeching again, like he’s having a contest with himself on what will shatter first: the windows or Jongdae’s eardrums. So far, the windows are winning.

Baekhyun gets up to the front of the class and smiles at everyone, and Jongdae feels bad for being such an asshole to his student that, while terrible and crude and always late, isn’t as big of a dick as he could be in this type of setting. Jongdae would rather deal with Baekhyun’s tone deaf smartass antics than those of a professional singer’s any day. He shudders, thinking about the professional lessons he gives on Wednesdays at JM Entertainment, with all the idols he has to train and retrain, and all the attitudes he has to wring out of them by their necks. Baekhyun and his terrible singing is nothing compared to any of  _ that _ .

“Hi guys,” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae can’t believe it, but Baekhyun looks almost…  _ shy _ … standing in front of everyone. “Here goes nothing!” he says playfully and then opens his mouth. 

Jongdae half expects to be met with the worst. He half expects his eardrums to shatter on impact. What he gets instead is a soft, jaunty little voice, off tune in some parts, but more or less held together by what feels like more than the barest of strings. Baekhyun misses the mark a few times, but his eyes are bright and focussed, and he finishes the chorus without much difficulty either. The class erupts into applause, and Jongdae seriously considers getting that banner. Soon after, he releases his students and they file out one by one, except for Baekhyun who takes his sweet time at his desk, slowly putting his notebook away and fiddling with his phone.

“I’m very proud of you,” Jongdae blurts out, but smiles to recover himself. He offers Baekhyun a warm and genuine smile, what he honestly hopes to be the first of many. “You did amazing today and I’m glad to see improvement. You’re learning and that’s what matters.”

“Thanks, teach,” Baekhyun says, smiling something mischievous, and Jongdae has half a mind to wonder what that could mean, before throwing it out all together. Baekhyun’s eyes linger on his face, and Jongdae sucks his bottom lip in automatically out of habit. Baekhyun’s eyes follow the motion, and it’s almost like he wants to ask Jongdae something, but he holds himself back from it. 

Jongdae picks up his school bag and makes his way towards the door, where Baekhyun still is, presumably waiting for him. 

“Hey, Jongdae,” Baekhyun says, once he locks the door and they make their way into the parking lot. Jongdae is taken aback at first—even though he’s given his students permission to use his first name, Baekhyun has sort of resorted into calling him ‘teach’ since the first day. It gives him enough pause to stop his walk, and look directly at his student.

“Yes, Baekhyun?”

“One of these days, let’s sing together,” Baekhyun murmurs, eyes giddy and alight with something Jongdae can’t quite understand.

Jongdae snorts, but he can admire tenacity in anyone, so he nods his head. “Sure we can,” he says, smiling and trying not to look at Baekhyun’s cheek mole. Jongdae doesn’t know what it is about today—maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the way the air smells like fresh cut flowers, or maybe, in fact, it  _ is  _ Baekhyun. He tries not to dwell too long on that thought though, because Baekhyun is essentially his student, Baekhyun is  _ off limits _ . 

_ Baekhyun also can’t hold a single note to save his life _ , Jongdae’s petty subconscious reminds him, before he immediately feels bad for being mean. He looks up at Baekhyun and meets bright, big, mischievous eyes. “Really?” he says, almost like he believed Jongdae would reject him. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” Jongdae says, exhaling deeply. Through all of Baekhyun’s faults, and his ridiculous demeanor, Jongdae knows at heart he’s a good man. A good  _ student,  _ he reminds himself. “We can definitely sing a duet one of these days.” 

The answering smiling Baekhyun gives him is blinding. “I’ll hold you to it!” he says, while jogging away to his car, waving at Jongdae. 

Jongdae opens his car door and sighs, trying to ignore the warm feeling that threatens to overflow inside his chest.

***

“So,” Minseok says, from where he is sitting on the couch, eating a can of Pringles, “what did Baekhyun do today?”

“Nothing,” Jongdae says, but he cringes at his voice. He knows he answered way too quickly to be perceived as normal, and he knows for sure that his best friend’s hawk eyes are going to hone in on any perceived weakness he can find in Jongdae’s facade.

“Is that so?” Minseok asks, biting into a sour cream and onion chip. At least he catches the crumbs as they fall, Jongdae thinks to himself, reminded of Jongin’s messy eating habits and the day he had to clean chili con carne off the fucking couch cushions because he just so happened to  _ miss  _ his entire mouth by a fucking mile.

“Yes,” Jongdae replies, and feels the heat of Minseok’s gaze on his back, as if he was Scott Summers with the laser eyes. Jongdae would rather take on the fucking X-Men than deal with Minseok and his near psychic abilities to pick up on the minutiae of Jongdae’s behaviorial ticks. Minseok should’ve never majored in psychology in the first place.

“Why are you sweating?”

“I’m not!” Jongdae says, turning around now to fully face Minseok who is lounging on the couch, feet tucked under himself. Minseok shrugs, but he’s also trying to hide a smirk behind the Pringles can. Go figure.

Jongdae plops onto the couch and sighs. “Did Jongin let you in?”

“I have a key.”

“Since when?”

“Since you lost your key and couldn’t get into your  _ own  _ apartment, had your brother unclench his ass from his boyfriend’s dick, and drive the thirty fucking minutes from Chanyeol’s place back here so he could unlock the door for you.”

“Please stop talking,” Jongdae whines, rubbing his temples.

“So, I made my own key, to spare you, me, and Jongin the misery of having to go through  _ that  _ all over again.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jongdae says, and Minseok nods, like he knows what Jongdae means, and offers a sour cream and onion flavored pat on the arm. The chip dust gets over Jongdae’s sweater sleeve, but he’s way too high strung to care right now.

“Baekhyun is… a lot,” Jongdae starts.

“That feels like the understatement of the year,” Minseok mutters, eating more of Jongdae’s snacks.

“He makes me feel…” Jongdae says, letting his voice trail off.

“Oh please use your words,” Minseok says, “I know I’m a licensed therapist but I do not have the five years necessary to unpack everything that we both know that sentence holds.”

Jongdae puts his head in his hand and makes a soft growling noise. Like, a rumbly and upset little puppy.

“There, there,” Minseok laughs, patting his arm, “there, there.”

“He’s so hot and I don’t know what to do about it but also he pisses me off because there is a part of me that’s convinced he’s been  _ faking  _ being bad at singing for months but then he screeches all over again and I’m back to thinking he really  _ is  _ just that bad and then  _ I  _ feel bad because I’m the teacher and I’m being a judgmental fucking asshole,” Jongdae says all in one Usain Bolt-esque rant. He takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” Minseok says, shaking his head, “calm down, first and foremost, let’s do that.” Minseok puts the chips on top of the coffee table and pulls Jongdae close to him. Jongdae snuggles up into Minseok’s warmth and says nothing, but he does feel the tension in his chest cease. They sit in silence for a while, Minseok petting Jongdae’s hair, until finally Jongdae audibly sighs.

“Maybe I have a crush on my student from hell,” Jongdae admits, even though it feels like he just pulled out his own teeth to admit it.

“It happens to the best of us,” Minseok says, and Jongdae knows he’s trying to hold in a laugh. 

“I’m so dramatic,” Jongdae whines, burying his face into Minseok’s chest.

“It’s okay,” he says, “we all know it’s a part of your charm.”

Jongdae just groans.

***

The rest of the week passes by uneventfully, though Jongdae finds himself more hyper aware of how close the next Tuesday class is. With his less than stellar revelation to Minseok on Tuesday night, Jongdae kind of just wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. But he is a teacher, first and foremost, and a good one—he tries to remind himself, so he figures that the best case scenario of events is to pretend he does not have a crush on Baekhyun, and then sit back and watch as it dies in the next 6 weeks, once the classes at the community college are over and Jongdae can go back to being a full time vocal trainer for pompous idol clients instead. He gets home from JM Entertainment on Friday, worn and weary, struck both by how exhaustive it is to train idols and how grateful, in a way, he is to have decided against that career path. Jongdae loves singing, it is where he feels most at home, and the passion and love for that decided to manifest itself into teaching. However, Jongdae still remembers being seventeen, and considering the merit of blindly auditioning to be an idol. He thinks about the idol groups he sees as he passes by on the subway, their ads and fans support and faces plastered over any available surface. He thinks, maybe in another universe, he’d have enjoyed the spotlight so much—positively revelled in it. But for now, right in this one, the smiles he gets on the faces of his students when they hit a particular note they’ve been struggling with, or when they can finally understand with clarity the hard work and effort that goes into singing for longevity, is more than enough. Jongdae settles onto the couch with a sigh, bag thrown over the armrest while he digs his socked feet into the plush, but god awfully ugly, bright yellow carpet.

“How was work, hyung?” Jongin asks, and smashes himself against Jongdae’s side. It’s been a few days since he’s seen him, and even though they live in the same apartment, with both of their busy schedules, it’s so hard to find time to hang out together one on one.

“Exhausting,” Jongdae replies, making himself open. Jongin accepts the offer and leans all into Jongdae’s space, arms wrapping around his brother’s chest.

“Wanna go out with me and Chanyeol? We’re going to this jazz bar,  _ The Bass Note _ , to listen to this band we’re obsessed with.”

“A fanboy, are you?”

Jongin slaps his arm, “It’s not like that hyung!” he whines, “They’re a small duo group, called B&K, and their songs are so good!”

Jongdae weighs his options, and right now he has about two choices. Either stay home and mope (about Baekhyun) or go out with his brother and get drunk (and then mope about Baekhyun, but much later). Jongdae pretends to consider it for a moment longer, watching as Jongin’s puppy eyes get bigger and brighter in intensity. No wonder Chanyeol can never say ‘no’ to the little runt.

“Fine,” Jongdae says, “I’ll go with you and Yeol.”

“Yay!” Jongin cheers, “no more grumpy brother.”

“Shut up!” he yells, though there’s no heat behind it.

“I’m calling Minseok,” he mutters, fiddling with his phone.

“The more the merrier!” Jongin shouts from his room.

_ God,  _ Jongdae thinks,  _ I need that drink now _ .

***

Minseok meets them at  _ The Bass Note  _ in a timely manner, and stifles a laugh behind his hand as he sees Jongdae with  _ the Princess and the Frog  _ right behind him. Jongdae throws him a glare, as Minseok approaches, which just makes Minseok remove his hand and laugh even louder. Jongdae tries and fails to ignore the  _ smooching  _ sounds coming from behind him, while Jongin and Chanyeol play grab ass like Jongdae isn’t a foot away from them.

“Thank God!” Jongdae says, voice strained, once Minseok is close enough for him to latch onto.

“I see you’re having fun,” he quips.

“Always,” Jongin butts in and answers, grabbing Chanyeol’s ass. He lets out an awfully loud shout, which makes Jongin giggle.

“Please,” Jongdae begs, “for the love of  _ God  _ can we get inside the bar. I need four drinks now.”

“One for each of us?” Minseok asks.

“No,” Jongdae says, as they sit down at a table in the middle, relatively close to the stage, “all  _ four  _ me.”

Jongin groans, “Please don’t try to be funny,” he says, waving down the waiter. “I’m begging you here.”

“Please stop sucking your boyfriend’s lips in front of me,” Jongdae fires back, “or else he soon won’t have any fucking lips  _ left _ .”

“Hey!” Chanyeol shouts, while Jongin punches Jongdae on the arm.

“Stop beating up on him guys,” Minseok replies, soothing Jongdae. Jongdae is about to thank his best friend for his condolences before Minseok continues, “It’s that time of the month, you know?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jongdae says, banging his head against the table.

“For the last time,” Minseok repeats, “it is  _ not  _ morally dubiuous to want to fuck Baekhyun when he isn’t even technically a real student of yours anyway.”

Jongdae grunts in acknowledgement. The waiter comes by and takes their drink and bar snack orders—Jongdae orders two midori sours and criss cross fries—and they settle into their seats. Jongdae takes a look around the jazz club, and soaks in the atmosphere. Everything is colored in brown and black hues, with lots of wood, giving the club an almost contemporary, modern type of feel. The low, dim lighting makes everything feel a lot more intimate, which, Jongdae supposes, fits in nicely with the genre of jazz. Jongdae sits with his back towards the stage as the light chatter of the incoming crowd fills his ears. He lets himself settle into the bustle of everyone else around him, and hopes at least for some portion of it to drown out the kill bill sirens shouting  _ BAEKHYUN HOT!  _ over and over in his head. 

The waiter makes his way back with their drinks and food, and Jongdae gets right into eating and drinking, letting Minseok, Chanyeol, and Jongin talk amongst themselves. He is definitely feeling fatigued and irritable, but Jongdae refuses to let that ruin this outing. It has been a while since he’s been out with friends, mind too focused on working and pretending that he does not have a single feeling for Baekhyun.

_ Of course you don’t have a single feeling,  _ Jongdae’s brain supplies as he drains the bottom of the first drink,  _ you have several _ .

“Shut up,” Jongdae mutters to his internal dialogue, and that catches Minseok’s interest.

“Breaking out the midori sours I see,” Minseok says.

“No comment.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“You’re definitely thinking it.”

“Jongdae’s having feelings,” Chanyeol cuts in, “for who?”

“It’s ‘for whom’, Chanyeol.”

“Don’t dodge his question!”Jongin butts in.

“Yeah, don’t dodge his question,” Minseok gives him a mischievous smile.

“I need another fucking drink,” Jongdae cries out dramatically.

“Okay, drama queen,” Minseok says, while Jongin pats his arm. “There, there,” Jongin says, “there, there.”

“Learned that from Minseok, didn’t you?” Jongdae’s lips form a thin line.

“Who else would teach him?” Minseok snorts.

“Help,” Jongdae mutters, but Chanyeol shushes him. “It’s starting!”

Jongin and Chanyeol look away from Jongdae’s misery and focus on the small area sectioned off to be the ‘stage.’ Jongdae doesn’t want to turn around quite yet, as he’s found that visual impressions make him  _ think _ of how a singer will sound like, versus how they actually do. He prefers to listen to their voices first and then see their faces afterwards, so he can impart a final judgement without his second head getting in the way.

“Hello,” a deep and smooth voice says from behind, “we are B&K, and no that is not a reference to Burger King.” A bunch of laughter erupts from around them and Jongdae realizes in his midst of internal panic,  _ The Bass Note  _ has filled up quite nicely.  _ Wow,  _ he thinks,  _ these guys must be really good _ . Definitely going to stay turned away then, at least until the end of the first song. Jongdae imagines the man currently speaking to be tall and broad shouldered. With a voice as deep and rich as that, he can imagine sultry eyes and a kind—although maybe somewhat maleficent—smile. 

“Please,” the voice continues, “our instagram page run by B is ‘BKseoulkorea,’ it is not BKkorea, which is the Burger King instagram.” Jongdae snorts beside himself, this dude—K— is hilarious. “Anyways,” K continues, our first song of the night is going to be ‘For Life.’ Hope you all enjoy!”

A soft piano starts up, which Jongdae assumes is B. He wonders who these men are, and why they go by their first initial of their names instead of their actual name. All too soon, Jongdae’s ears are filled with the smooth and sultry voice of a man who can  _ sing _ . “Holy shit,” Jongdae mutters, and looks towards his friends. Minseok’s eyes are glazed over in concentration, while Jongin and Chanyeol seem to be equally in love with the singers.

“You gotta turn around,” Jongin says to Jongdae, but his eyes don’t move from the performers.

“You know how Dae is, he wants to hear their voices first and all that,” Chanyeol mutters.

“I will in a bit,” Jongdae says, eating his way through his fries. K’s voice can only be described as…  _ voluptuous _ to the ears, though Jongdae knows if he says that out loud Jongin will accuse him of reading those cheesy romance novels for women again. His tone and vibrato are amazing, and Jongdae finds himself falling in love with the soft curve of his vowels at the end of each word. He gets so immersed he almost doesn’t realize the song is over, and joins in on the clapping as well. K was good, Jongdae thinks, and he reminds himself that he needs to thank Jongin for inviting him out after all. K runs through a few more songs on his own, each one more radiant than the last, and one in particular, a soft ballad called ‘It’s Okay’ does greatly pull at Jongdae’s heartstrings. He is so tempted to turn around already, but knows he can’t. He needs to hear what B sounds like before he can let himself see the singers’ faces.

“Thank you,” K says, and everyone cheers again, “B is going to set up his keyboard and all that, but I wanted to thank you all for coming to see us. We’re here at  _ The Bass Note  _ every Friday! While we wait for B, I can take a few questions?”

Jongdae immediately sees Chanyeol’s hand shoot up. Of course.

“Yes?” K asks, and Chanyeol smiles shyly, surprised he was picked on.

“Will you guys ever make an album?” Chanyeol asks, and immediately the crowd agrees in the same sentiment. Jongdae looks at the crowds faces and sees their desire reflected in their eyes and cheers. He nods to himself. K was really amazing. He can only imagine what B sounds like.

“We actually,” K starts, and Jongdae hears him smack his lips, “have a great announcement to make.” His breath comes in a bit strongly through the microphone, probably due to excitement, more or less. “We’ve been picked up by a music company—we can’t release details yet—but we are excited to say that, yes! In the near future, please kindly expect an album from us.”

The entire bar erupts into a big round of applause. K seems happy over the mic, if his voice is anything to go by, and Jongdae finds himself reveling in that excitement and cheering as well. He definitely will remember to make a mental note to keep tabs on these guys in the future, and to anticipate their album. Though by the looks on his friends’ faces, he’s more than sure Jongin will be hounding him every day until the album is released.

“Alright, alright,” K says, “that’s enough of me… now, here’s B!” Cheers erupt again as a soft piano interlude kicks on. B runs up and down the scales, warming up, and getting the crowd ready. 

“It’s me, B,” a velvety voice says, as Jongdae finishes up the last of his second midori sour. Something about the tone of voice nags at his mind, but he can’t really come up with a reason why. The waiter comes by, right on time, dropping another drink on the table. Jongdae nods in thanks.

“Still midori sours, I see,” Chanyeol judges from where he sits, while his eyes go back and focus on B.

“Mind your business,” Jongdae says, sucking his drink up through a straw.

B runs up and down the scales again, chatting lively with the audience, and Jongdae has the distinct feeling that he is  _ missing _ something obvious. His eyes flit towards Minseok, who’s facial expression is a cross between wonder, surprise, and what Jongdae can only describe as the expression Arnold Schwarzenegger had at the end of  _ Terminator _ . Jongdae is… scared for his life, obviously, but he refuses to let Minseok know.

“You’re gonna love this,” Minseok says, because of course his mission in life is to be as cryptic as possible.

“Thanks,” Jongdae replies, and shoves three criss cross fries into his mouth.

B runs up the scale one more time before he switches it up, and the introduction to ‘My Turn To Cry’ starts playing. Jongdae sighs, already in love. He knows he’s always been a bit pretentious when it comes to idol songs, but ‘My Turn To Cry’ has got to be one of his personal favorites. Jongdae prefers the ballads more than anything else, and finds that the form allows the singer to really show their  _ stuff _ . And so long as Jongin doesn’t know that Jongdae owns an idol group’s album—he’ll be fine. What his younger brother, and Minseok for that matter, don’t know won’t hurt them.

Jongdae holds his breath for B’s voice on the opening lines, and the moment he hears it, it’s like a  _ dam  _ breaks in his head.

“Oh my god,” Jongdae says out loud, “his voice is so…” Jongdae finds himself getting lost in B’s tone, in B’s emotions, in the effortless way he runs through the song, as if he wrote it himself. He can feel the narrative of the song, can feel his heart swell and beat in time with the way B’s vocal’s seem to latch onto every syllable and hold it for breath, like he’s dying on the word, like he’s begging the listener to understand—to  _ sympathize _ . Jongdae feels his insides turn into mush, feels his brain run through twelve different emotions at once. He hasn’t felt overwhelmed by someone’s voice alone in so,  _ so  _ long. B sings like it’s the last thing he’s going to do on this planet—like his voice is the only way he can give himself meaning.

Jongdae has never been more in love.  _ And it’s only the first song _ .

He finishes the song a few seconds later and Jongdae is among the first to clap in applause. He blots his eyes with one of the napkins on the table, and drinks Jongin’s glass of water in its entirety. He wants to turn around and look at B so bad. He wants to know who’s the angel that just blessed him with their voice—he wants to thank B, for giving him this moment, where he could remember why he fell so deeply in love with singing in the first place.

Jongdae looks over at Minseok and catches his gaze. Minseok eyes him carefully,  _ Terminator _ expression still on, eyes shining with undisclosed mirth.

“You enjoyed his performance, I take it?”

“More than.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so moved by someone’s singing.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae agrees, and waits with bated breath as B moves into the next song, another idol group cover, which, much to Jongdae’s surprise, is another ballad from the  _ same  _ group.  _ Wow,  _ he thinks to himself,  _ a beautiful voice and a man with taste _ … 

B sings ‘My Answer’, ‘Miracles in December’, ‘Moonlight’, and ‘Lights Out’ all in a row, voice growing in strength, versatility, and  _ flavor  _ as the set list progresses. K’s voice had been amazing to hear—Jongdae had found himself wrapped up in the sultry tone, in the huskiness of K’s voice. But B’s? Jongdae finds himself lost in the clouds, lost in the forest, lost in his dreams. He finds himself being pulled around by B’s voice, taken to all the places and all the emotional planes B wants him to feel. Jongdae’s never felt more grateful to be dragged around then right now.

And yet still, when B finishes up ‘Moonlight’, Jongdae can’t help but shake the feeling that his voice sounds  _ so  _ familiar. In some way. He wants to chance it and glance back, but he knows he  _ can’t _ . Not yet, at least. He won’t go against his own self imposed rule unless absolutely necessary. 

“Final song from just me tonight,” B says breathily into the mic, and Jongdae knows he’s missing something. He can feel it on the tip of his tongue, on the point of his index finger. 

“Ahhh nooooo,” comes the chorus from the crowd, sad that B’s solo set is ending. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he appeases, “K will come back on shortly and we’ll sing a couple duets together! Don’t forget to anticipate our album.” 

The opening piano chords of ‘Every Day, Every Moment’ begin, and Jongdae feels his soul begin it’s ascent into heaven. He cannot believe, of all songs, that B chose  _ this _ one to end his set with. Jongdae thinks about his students in class, thinks about his passion and his love for teaching and singing, and feels like B has reignited that passion ten fold. 

He even thinks about Baekhyun, too, and about his soft smile, his cheesy voice, and above all else, his  _ screeching _ .  _ Maybe, _ Jongdae thinks,  _ I really am going insane— _ if the fact that he’s starting to think fondly of Baekhyun yelling at lawn mower decibels is anything to go by. Clearly, the midori sours are getting to his head. Maybe, and Jongdae will never admit this out loud under threat of perjury, Chanyeol might actually be right.

Jongdae sighs and lets B’s gentle voice wash over him. He feels an itch under his skin, what he just cannot quite place. And he wants to understand why his fogged up brain keeps thinking about Baekhyun when he’s supposed to be focussed on the music, focussed on the singing and the getting drunk and not acting like some lovesick teenager when he’s twenty-seven years old. 

“His voice,” Jongdae says, “his voice is so beautiful.”

Minseok snorts and Jongdae looks up from his pity party.

“What?”

“You like his voice, you said?”

“Amazing,” Jongdae says, “fucking incredible,” he continues, “if I could fuck a voice—”

“Okay,” Minseok interrupts, stopping that train of thought, “I get it. You love his voice so much,” he says, and pats Jongdae’s arm. He looks Jongdae directly in the eyes,  _ Terminator  _ expression on full blast. 

“Just wait ‘til you see his face,” Minseok smirks, and Jongdae has half a second to think about what that means, before Minseok gets up, grabs the back of Jongdae’s chair, and turns him around. 

“Oh,” Jongdae says dumbly, seeing B playing the piano and singing. “Oh.”

“This is wonderful,” Minseok says, and sits back down, patting himself on the shoulder like the asshole he was born to be.

Jongdae stares into space for what feels like an hour, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. He feels his brain crack into tiny, little pieces, as the urge to turn around and bang his forehead against the table mounts to an all time high. Jongdae weighs his options, and wonders if he can order another two midori sours without Chanyeol or Jongin passing him judgemental looks. He also merits the greater option of running out of  _ The Bass Note _ and hoping to get hit by a car.

Because right there, on stage, hitting a perfect note, playing piano and singing a flawless rendition of Paul Kim’s ‘Every Day, Every Moment’ is none other than the cause of his premature grey hair, the unlight of his fucking life, the  _ jackass _ who is responsible for Jongdae’s blood pressure medication, none other than—

“ _ Baekhyun! _ ” Jongdae spits out, venom, vitriol, malice, and every other forehead vein inducing adjective swirling in his mind. Because right in front of his fucking eyes, right in front of his fucking salad no less, there is one Byun Baekhyun,  _ student from hell,  _ singing in the most sensuous voice Jongdae has ever heard. Singing in a voice that made Jongdae remember why he loved his craft. Why he loved his job.  _ Why he loved his students _ . That asshole. That dipshit. That—

“Stupid motherfucker!” Jongdae shouts, and this time his voice projects  _ and  _ carries across the room, all the way to the stage, where both Baekhyun and K both look away from each other and towards Jongdae’s table, right in the middle of the jazz club. 

“Oh this is too good,” Minseok throws in, trying and failing to hide a laugh behind his hand, “oh, this doesn’t get any better than this right now.”

“Shut up,” Jongdae says to Minseok, using his teacher voice, “Minseok, shut up.” 

“No,” he says, “I’m having too much fun.”

Jongdae looks back to the stage, where Baekhyun seems to catch his eye, and even though he looks a little startled to see Jongdae there, he continues singing as if nothing is wrong. In fact, he throws Jongdae a fucking  _ wink,  _ like he’s planned this all along, like he’s made it his mission to attend Jongdae’s classes and fuck up his life and give him stress ulcers for  _ sport _ . Jongdae all but growls in his seat, much to the worried looks of Chanyeol and Jongin, while Minseok sits on the side pretending not to have the time of his life. Jongin elbows him, hard, but Jongdae doesn’t budge. He has never felt such ferocity in his life, has never felt such an urge to both pummel someone into the ground and find a way to french kiss the sound of their voice. Because it would be one thing if Baekhyun could just hold a note this entire time and was just testing the finer lines of Jongdae’s patience, but it’s another thing in its entirety, to be able to pull off a cover of a Paul Kim song so fucking flawlessly Jongdae is sure he’d have tears in his fucking eyes if he didn’t feel the steam coming out of his ears right now. 

Jongdae is going to murder him. He is going to kill him—in fact, he is fantasizing right now about how to choke the shit out of Baekhyun without getting kicked out of  _ The Bass Note _ . Jongdae is imagining himself as The Bride from  _ Kill Bill _ , but instead of killing Bill, it’s Baekhyun he flays open in a dojo. And suddenly that train of thought leads Jongdae down the path of thinking about a full body, yellow latex suit, and a samurai sword, face covered in blood, and all at once Jongdae’s brain is commencing its  _ shut down  _ sequence, with the aforementioned kill bill sirens blaring  _ BAEKHYUN HOT! BAEKHYUN SEXY!  _ over and over in a continuous, dreadful, embarrassing loop. 

“Hyung,” Jongin says from his left side, and Jongdae tears his eyes away from Baekhyun long enough to look at his brother. 

“Yes?” He says, voice all but reflecting the madness within. 

“Are you alright?” Jongin actually looks worried, bless his soul. Chanyeol’s eyes never leave the stage, and Minseok’s fist is so far up his own ass his fucking Adam’s apple are his knuckles.

“Peachy,” Jongdae says, and his stomach does flips. 

Jongin looks concerned at the nonanswer, and Jongdae throws an arm sideways to pat his brother’s leg. He misses the mark and hits a knee, but he thinks the sentiment is all the same. 

“Student,” Jongdae says, smile plastered on his face even though his voice is incredible tight, “from Hell.” His cheeks feel like they’re going to split in half. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Jongin says, and tries to cover up his face with a laugh. The song ends and the room erupts into applause. Jongdae turns away from his brother and claps as well, because while he’s pissed he’s not a  _ fucking animal.  _ And apropos of how many grey hairs Baekhyun has given Jongdae in the past six weeks, he still holds firm to his belief: the voice he heard was that of an angel, and while it may have been from an angel who is hell bent on ruining Jongdae’s life, it is still an angel nonetheless.

K seems to have now rejoined Baekhyun on stage, helping him to tune their instruments for their final songs together. Jongdae looks back to Jongin, who continues, “you can’t be serious?” Jongin asks, scratching the back of his neck, “your student from hell is here?”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae spits out, and even Chanyeol tears his gaze away from the stage and joins in.

“No way,” he says, “Baekhyun’s voice is amazing, he’s nothing like those recordings you’ve played for us.” 

“Apparently so,” Jongdae grits out, minding racing with the million and one possibilities for why a literal  _ professional  _ jazz club singer—soon to be a freaking signed artist—is taking his vocal lessons. Was he trying to be a dick? Trying to humble himself? Wanting to be a show off?  _ He’s got quite a fucking hilarious way of showing it,  _ Jongdae thinks. 

“Well, alright,” Baekhyun says from the stage, smiling and voice chipper. Jongdae looks back towards them, and thinks that Baekhyun’s cotton candy pink hair frames his big cheeks, making him look like a strawberry mochi.  _ Wow,  _ Jongdae thinks,  _ I am definitely too drunk for this _ . 

“This next song is just gonna be me again—oopsie—while K takes a potty break,” Baekhyun laughs into the mic, and Jongdae can see where K is rolling his eyes off to the side. Baekhyun situates himself in front of the keyboard, fiddling with the keys for a bit, before he takes a deep breath.

“It’s dedicated to a special friend,” he says, looking up from his keyboard and into the audience. Jongdae looks up at the same time that Baekhyun’s eyes scan over their table. He makes direct eye contact with him. Baekhyun gives him another wink, like he’s toying around, and then the introduction to ‘Cherry Blossom Love Song’ begins.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jongdae mutters, as he finds himself falling deeper into a trance with the voice filling his ears. Flashes of tight yellow latex flood into his memory again, and Jongdae grips the side of the chair to keep himself still. “I’m gonna kill Baekhyun.”

“This has been the best night ever,” Minseok says, off to the side, voice sounding so far away to Jongdae’s ears, because of course, naturally, he finds himself too focused on Baekhyun to listen to his best friend. Go figure.

Baekhyun’s voice, this time around, is not the shy and timid—but assured—tone he heard earlier in the week. It does not have any of the cracks and stumblings from before, and Jongdae has half a mind to praise Baekhyun for his ability to  _ fake  _ singing badly, and the other half of his mind wants to grab him by the meat of his cheeks and swing him back and forth like a ragdoll. Jongdae can’t help but find himself getting more and more immersed into Baekhyun’s voice the longer he listens to him. He is falling in love with his story, he is feeling his emotions, he is being taken through every phase on Baekhyun’s terms, and Jongdae wants to sit back and  _ awe _ .

He still wants to kick the shit out of him, though. And just as well, still wants to figure out how to french kiss a voice.

Jongdae’s never felt more angrily aroused in his  _ life _ .

Baekhyun finishes up ‘Cherry Blossom Love Song’ and Jongdae thinks, this is how the song was supposed to sound like from the beginning. His heart feels heavy, but satisfied, at the emotional journey Baekhyun took him on. Jongdae watches as K comes back on stage and they set up for the rest of their duet set. Jongdae can’t help but keep his eyes glued to the stage, watching the way Baekhyun’s fingers fly over the keyboard, hearing the way Baekhyun and K’s voices meld together in such a soulful two part harmony.

“So,” Minseok says, taking Jongdae out of his mind. He turns to face his friend.

“The student from Hell, huh?” Minseok smirks.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“You should’ve never shown me his face.”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“Weakness indeed,” Minseok reiterates. Jongdae throws a stale french fry at him for good measure. 

***

Baekhyun and K’s set end and all of them hang back in the club as they pack their instruments away. Baekhyun looked over at Jongdae a couple more times during the final few songs, throwing smirks and gazes and winks in his direction. The ladies sitting at the table kept throwing Jongdae weird looks, but all he did was shrug his shoulders and knock back more glasses of water. He needed to be sober, he realized, once the duet’s started, he needed to be completely one hundred percent of sound mind for the rest of the show. Jongdae tears his gaze away from Baekhyun’s backside and looks towards his brother, who is sitting in Chanyeol’s lap, full on. Chanyeol’s got one of his big arms slung over Jongin’s waist protectively, and Jongin leans his head backwards onto Chanyeol’s shoulder. It’s cute. It’s sickening. Jongdae has a mental image of doing the same thing with Baekhyun, and picks up his glass again, chugs more water down a second time. Maybe if he drinks enough he can drown himself. 

“Hey,” a hand lands on his shoulder, taking him out of his reverie. Jongdae looks up and is immediately met by the sparkling eyes of Baekhyun. He hears the chairs scrape around him, and notes that his friends are probably getting up and ready to leave as well.

“You were amazing,” Chanyeol says to Baekhyun, who tears his gaze away from Jongdae to look deeply into his eyes. He exudes a sense of compassion and warmth, the same warmth that he gives off in class. 

“Thank you,” Baekhyun says. He does not remove his hand from Jongdae’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re the ‘student from hell,’” Jongin blurts out, before Jongdae throws him an angry sideways look. 

“Jongin!” he shouts, but Baekhyun just laughs in response.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” Baekhyun says.

“Oh, believe me,” Minseok cuts in, and gives a welcoming—if not mischievous—smile. “It more than does.” Baekhyun’s hand is still a burn on Jongdae’s shoulder.

“Wanna get outta here, teach?” Baekhyun asks, and he looks at Jongdae with full lips and bright eyes. Jongin, Chanyeol, and Minseok make excuses about leaving, and it takes Jongdae another minute to realize that Jongin is his  _ fucking  _ ride home, before Baekhyun’s tapping his cheek and bringing him back.

“Teach?” he says, smirking.

Jongdae looks at Baekhyun’s eyes, and while he sees that they glint playful, there is also an undercurrent of nervous energy that seems to permeate his face. Jongdae thinks about long classes, pterodactyl screeching, and Minseok telling him that no, it is  _ not  _ morally dubious to sleep with his  _ not-really-a-student- _ student. “Yeah,” Jongdae replies, finally, voice thick, fingers clenching. There are so many things he wants to say out loud and not enough time. “I’m going to kill you,” he voices out, because he wants to make sure that at least that sentiment is known.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, eyes alight and gaze dark, “I can’t wait.”

He moves his hand from Jongdae’s shoulder to his hand and tugs him along. Jongdae goes willingly.

***

The door closes behind Jongdae with a click and he finds his back pressed up against it. Baekhyun’s nimble fingers card through his hair as his tongue viciously pushes inside Jongdae’s mouth. Jongdae sets his hands on top of Baekhyun’s shoulders, squeezing tight, and Baekhyun moans open mouthed against his face.

Suddenly, the light flicks on.

“Aha!” a voice shouts, and Jongdae jumps back so hard, but with no space to go he ends up banging the back of his head against the door frame. 

“Fuck!” Jongdae says, clutching his head. The drive from  _ The Bass Note  _ to Baekhyun’s apartment was a neat ten minute ride, most of which constituted Jongdae sobering up at an alarming rate while Baekhyun used his left thigh as an armrest. If Jongdae wasn’t sober before, he  _ definitely  _ feels like any midori was just knocked out of his brain now. He looks up at the bright light of what seems to be the living room and finds Baekhyun’s cheeks burning red while he’s looking at the other person in the room. Someone who looks so completely— 

“Sehun?!” Jongdae shouts, albeit a little too loudly, “what are you doing here?”

“Jongdae?” Sehun asks, and he snorts a laugh. “Oh my god, Baek,” he turns towards Baekhyun, “our fucking teacher, really?”

“He’s not technically a real teacher,” Baekhyun says, at the same time Jongdae says, “I’m not really your teacher.”

“God,” Sehun replies, “of course.”

“How do you two know each other?” Jongdae asks, because right now his brain is moving fifteen miles per hour above the speed limit.

“Best friends!” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae looks at Sehun who only nods his head in confirmation.

“My best student… my worst enemy…” 

“Hey,” Baekhyun interjects, “I believe you were calling me the ‘unlight of your life’ in the car? I think that’s more poetic.”

“I need a drink again.”

“Are you guys gonna bone? ‘Cause if you are I’m just gonna go to Tao’s apartment next door.”

“Yes we are,” Baekhyun says.

“We are?” Jongdae asks, before his brain catches up to him, “wait… yeah… yeah we are.”

“I’m leaving!” Sehun announces, and Jongdae moves out of the way of Sehun’s flurry, as he races out the door and locks it behind himself.

They stand there in silence for a while, and Jongdae chances a glance over to Baekhyun who looks…  _ shy  _ almost. He doesn’t think he can recall a moment in the time he’s known Baekhyun where the word ‘shy’ is something he’d use to describe him. Jongdae feels something settle in his gut at the way Baekhyun’s cheeks are near pink enough to match his hair. He’s so cute like this, he thinks, flustered and off kilter and just a little bit thrown off his element. Baekhyn’s always seemed one step ahead of him in most things—from the ease of the way he carries himself in class, to the ease he performed on stage, to the way he approached Jongdae at the bar with a hand on his shoulder and suggested they leave together. He’s never not known Baekhyun to be brimming with confidence. 

The Baekhyun before him right now is something Jongdae thinks he could get used too. He smiles to himself as he squares his shoulders and swallows down his nerves. “I can’t believe he knew the entire time you could  _ sing _ ,” Jongdae says as a way to break the tension. He watches Baekhyun’s shoulders relax. Jongdae pokes him in the chest. “I can’t believe  _ you _ could sing!” He grabs Baekhyun by the mochi cheeks—just like he always imagined—and pinches him. “I cannot believe you! The neverending stress! The torture!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Baekhyun slurs out, but he looks so much more at ease now. Jongdae’s finding himself fighting a smile of his own. 

“Join the club!” Jongdae says, pinching Baekhyun’s cheeks just a bit more. He finds himself staring at Baekhyun’s lips again, thinking about the way they felt against his—how he can’t believe he made out with him against the front door. Jongdae flits his gaze up to Baekhyun’s. His eyes are filled with so many things, but the biggest emotion Jongdae can read is the one he knows his face is reflecting back tenfold.

_ Just a little hopeful, _ he thinks, and all the nonsense of Baekhyun: the student from hell seems to melt away. Baekhyun gives him a soft smile, and Jongdae runs the pad of his thumb over the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. His hands move from Baekhyun’s cheeks to his neck. Baekhyun’s eyes seem to roll back in his head and Jongdae— 

_ Oh. _

“C’mon, teach,” Baekhyun says, eyes wanting, “c’mon.” Jongdae gulps, nods. All sense has flown out the window. Any morality he had weeks ago is gone. He thinks he can hear Minseok’s voice in his head again. Jongdae snorts to himself.

He’s doing this. He is completely doing this, with Baekhyun. With his student from hell. Jongdae looks up at Baekhyun with the same level of intensity. 

“You can’t imagine how many times in class I kept thinking you were faking it,” Jongdae mutters, exasperated. Baekhyun lets out a wave of giggles. Jongdae cups his cheek and he leans into it.

“How else could I get your attention?” 

“By being a normal student?”

“That never would’ve worked. I needed you to see me.”

“I saw you. And I heard you,” Jongdae says. Baekhyun leans more into his hand, his face is warm. Jongdae thinks Baekhyun’s cheek fits his palm perfectly. Jongdae thinks Baekhyun is something of a veritable asshole.

Jongdae also thinks he looks kind of beautiful. “Your screams could be heard around the world.”

Baekhyun’s eyes shoot open, and he pins Jongdae with his gaze. “That’s not even the loudest I can scream,” he says, tongue coming out of his mouth to lick the part of Jongdae’s hand he can reach. 

Jongdae feels his gut clench. No holds barred,  _ forever _ . “Is that a threat?” Jongdae asks, and he feels linked to Baekhyun by the gaze, skin on fire on all the parts where their bodies touch, twin flames burning in the same shared desire.

“It’s a promise,” Baekhyun remarks, and Jongdae moves his hand from Baekhyun’s cheek again, and rests it on the base of his neck. Baekhyun’s eyes roll back in his head, and he shudders under Jongdae’s hand. He knows he’s going to have to fight with Baekhyun to get him where he wants him, laid bare, spread open, all underneath him. Knows he’s gonna have to push Baekhyun, hold him down, delirious with desire—just to hear the way he begs in that pretty voice of his. Jongdae thinks when this is all over, it will be totally worth it, to endure another day of Baekhyun screaming in class, if he means he gets to have him screaming underneath him at night.

“Are you sure about this?” Jongdae asks, hands gentle at Baekhyun’s throat.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun mutters softly, “really sure.”

Jongdae squeezes his thumb and forefinger together slightly against the sides of Baekhyun’s neck, watches the way his eyes flutter open at the pressure. He looks directly at Jongdae.

“Lead the way,” Jongdae says, and grips Baekhyun’s hand in his tightly, “I believe I promised you a duet.”

Baekhyun’s only response is a moan.

***

Jongdae wakes up to sunlight streaming in through the blinds in a room that is not his. The first giveaway is that the sheets are a ‘funky’ shade of purple, while Jongdae knows he is and always will be a man who uses plain white sheets. The second giveaway is the warm weight of a body on his, naked legs tangled with his under the bed sheet.

Baekhyun moves closer to him, and hugs Jongdae’s body tighter in his arms. Jongdae thinks, funnily enough he could get used to his. He pushes Baekhyun onto his back and hovers over him. Baekhyun opens his eyes slowly, yawning. 

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Jongdae murmurs, nuzzling his face against Baekhyun’s bare chest.

“Arrnggghh,” Baekhyun replies, exhausted. Jongdae doesn’t even feel bad for wearing him out.

“My voice,” Baekhyun says softly, “my f-fucking  _ voice _ ,” he whines, and Jongdae swallows his laughter. Halfway through sex Baekhyun had decided to place a bet on how much Jongdae could make him scream. Suffice to say, Jongdae knows who won.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, teach,” Baekhyun murmurs, voice just a tiny bit raspy.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Jongdae says, and he kisses Baekhyun’s cheek. Baekhyun hums in reply and moves his face so their lips touch. He opens up under Jongdae’s ministrations, and scratches a hard line down Jongdae’s back, before biting his bottom lip.

“Oh, you fucking brat!” Jongdae grumbles, pinning Baekhyun’s hands to the side.

“I think you love my brattiness,” Baekhyun winks.

Jongdae sighs, “I really wish I didn’t.”

“And that,” Baekhyun says, “is why I had to screech in class every single time.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Jongdae intones, “the fact that you’re so good at  _ fake  _ singing or the fact that Sehun, bless his soul, had to be in class every day with a straight face and pretend you weren’t being a righteous dickhead the entire time.”

“I had good intentions,” Baekhyun whined.

Jongdae rolled his eyes. He snuggled closer to Baekhyun’s body and cuddled into his warmth. He would never admit to this out loud, but he was a very physically touchy person, and the fact that Baekhyun seemed to be the same made something in his chest go  _ thump thump _ in double time.

“I would like too,” Baekhyun says after a long bout of silence, voice so soft Jongdae knows he can only hear him because of their close proximity.

“Hmm?” Jongdae asks, mind focussing on Baekhyun.

“You-you said I don’t know much about you,” Baekhyun continues, and he fidgets in Jongdae’s hold. He kinda likes it when Baekhyun is nervous, finds himself starting to revel in it. “What if I said I’d like too, you know…”

“I would like that too,” Jongdae says sincerely, and feels his heart beat triple time in his chest.  _ More than you will know,  _ he thinks,  _ at least for right now.  _

“Are you free for dinner tonight?” Jongdae asks.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, “I just have to meet with Kyungsoo—that’s K, by the way—and our vocal trainer at the new company we’re gonna be signed too. But other than that, I can do dinner.”

“Am I still gonna see you in my classes?” Jongdae asks playfully, but his heart constricts at the thought of Baekhyun not being around. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he nuzzles his face into Jongdae’s neck, and everything feels good. 

They lay in bed lazily for another hour or so, before Jongdae unfortunately has to bid Baekhyun a farewell. He grumbles to himself about having to work at JM Entertainment on Saturdays, and thinks about the annoyingly pompous idol clients he’s going to have to train today. He bids Baekhyun goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, his phone contacts list now one number longer, and a promise to meet up for bbq later after they’re both done with work.

Jongdae does the walk of shame all the way home, but he doesn’t even feel any shame at all, just a lightness in his step. When he gets out of the uber in front of his apartment block, he whistles a soft tune to himself. He gets to the door and unlocks it—thankfully, he has a key this time—and immediately wants to shut the door. 

“Excuse me!” Jongin shouts, from the living room couch, where he’s bent over the back of it. Jongdae slams a hand over his face and makes a noise like he’s dying.

“We’re kinda busy!” Chanyeol adds in, and Jongdae knows for a fucking  _ fact  _ he hasn’t stopped moving.

“The living room?!” Jongdae screeches, keeping his hand firmly over his eyes, “the fucking living room?!”

“I don’t— _ ugh— _ know what to say,” Jongin moans. 

“I want a new brother,” Jongdae whines, feeling his way into the apartment by touching the walls, and trying to find the way to his bedroom without opening his eyes. “I bet we were given the wrong baby at birth!”

“You— _ oh fuck— _ take that back! Or I’m telling mom!”  _ _

“I’m telling mom!”

“Touche,” Jongin says, and then moans. Jongdae screams. He finds the latch of his door knob and all but throws himself in, slamming the door shut. He uncovers his eyes and moves to his speaker, turning it on to the highest volume setting, blasting  _ Ice Cream Cake  _ as loud as humanly possible. Jongdae throws himself onto his bed and lets out a scream. 

He fucking hates his brother.

***

Soon enough, Jongdae finds himself getting ready to leave for work at JM Entertainment. He sighs, thinking about the long dreadful hours of dealing with his clients today, but the prospect of seeing Baekhyun for dinner afterwards keeps him alight. Baekhyun sent him a few texts throughout the day, each more emoji laden than the last. Jongdae finds his heat swelling in affection, and it gives him the energy to power through the work day.

He arrives at the office on time, and instead of being met by the silence of his room, his boss, and the owner and CEO of JM Entertainment, Kim Junmyeon is there.

“Hello, hello!” Junmyeon says, and Jongdae rolls his eyes. Even in the face of so much bullshit, he can commend his boss for always remaining painstakingly cheerful, poise, and calm.

“Hello Mr. Kim,” Jongdae says, and Junmyeon nods back.

“I have some exciting news,” Junmyeon says, and ushers Jongdae out of his office and down the hallway to where the vocal training rooms are. “We have some new talent on board the company. They’re not idols, mind you, so working with them is going to be completely different.”

“Sounds like a relief,” Jongdae mutters to himself, and notes that Junmyeon is polite enough to pretend he does not hear him.

“They sound amazing,” Junmyeon continues, “and I’m thinking of solo albums for them in the near future, though I know that pink haired one is a lot more pushy for the group work. He’s gonna be a little rascal, for sure.”

“Okay,” Jongdae says, brain already thinking about techniques on how to train these new prospective soloists. With the idol image not in the way, nor the same rigorous training required, Jongdae thinks he can finally focus on the voice as the true instrument, instead of having to work around complicated dances and ridiculous song beats.

_ Wait a minute _ , he thinks. Jongdae stops right outside his classroom and looks at Junmyeon, who seems to be rolling a mile a minute.

“Did you say pink hair?” Jongdae asks.  _ Oh no _ … 

“Yes,” Junmyeon replies, pushing the door open, and Jongdae has all but three seconds to pause for dramatic effect before Junmyeon shoves his butt into the room—quite literally—and there, because of course, of all the agencies in all of Korea… 

“Jongdae!” Junmyeon claps his hands, gesturing to the two gentlemen in front of him. “This is Byun Baekhyun and Doh Kyungsoo! Our newest artists signed to JM Entertainment.”

Jongdae bites his bottom lip and hopes to to contain his grimace. Junmyeon probably thinks he’s smelling a fart. 

“Hello,” Jongdae says automatically, “I’m Kim Jongdae, lead vocal instructor at JM Entertainment.” 

Baekhyun can’t stop smiling. Kyungsoo looks like he’s about to faint. 

“They know me,” Jongdae blurts out, and Junmyeon looks at him in surprise before he quickly recovers and says, “I’m uh, I’m a fan.”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” Junmyeon claps his hands together again like he’s some fucking seal. Jongdae wants to throttle him. “Then this will be perfect. I’ll send you the company plans later, but you know what to do! I’ll leave you to it.” Junmyeon closes the door behind him, and Jongdae is left to fend for himself.

“So,” Baekhyun says, sidling up to Jongdae, pushing himself against him. Kyungsoo has his back to them, muttering what Jongdae assumes are curses under his breath. He can’t say he blames him. “What was that you said again, before? About not dating your students? Does this count?” Baekhyun drags his hand down Jongdae’s chest. 

“Baekhyun…” Jongdae warns, grabbing his wrist. Baekhyun moans, Kyungsoo lets out a choked sound. Poor guy.

“Cause teach,” Baekhyun whines, “I could really use some extra credit.”

“I’m gonna be fucking sick,” Kyungsoo groans, sitting down with his head in his hands.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jongdae grumbles. Baekhyun just laughs. 

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, voice sultry, hand on Jongdae’s shoulder, “I look forward to it,” he repeats, all the same from earlier, voice just as thick with the  _ want  _ that Jongdae feels in his veins.

He sighs. Jongdae wants to be mad, wants to choke Baekhyun for that  _ terrible  _ come-on, wants to pin him to the door right now and maybe shove his tongue in Baekhyun’s mouth—but it’s a losing battle. It’s hard to stay mad at Baekhyun for too long, Jongdae realizes, because there’s just too much about him that is so easy to love. Soon enough, a smile breaks out across Jongdae’s face all the same.

“After dinner then,” Jongdae whispers, directly into Baekhyun’s ear, to save Kyungsoo the trouble and the horror of knowing his group mate’s sex life—as if Baekhyun hasn’t already probably overshared enough as it is. “I’ll have you for dessert.”

Baekhyun’s answering cheer as he licks a stripe up Jongdae’s ear is enough.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hello <_>
> 
> please kudos, comment, and let me know if you liked the fic! i rather enjoyed writing this dynamic for baekchen, i had so much fun, and i might wanna write something for them again in the future! let me know what you think ❤️
> 
> find me on twitter at [@jonginsmommy](https://twitter.com/jonginsmommy) :)   
and on cc at [kaibrey](https://curiouscat.me/kaibrey)


End file.
